I Feel You Here
by ea07
Summary: A story about another cluster of sensates. With chance to peak into the lives of other unique people who become suddenly connected across the world. Please give chance. Not as cheesy as it sounds.
1. Chapter 1: Sapphire

**Hi all! I loved the original Sens8 characters but for some reason I couldn't keep these new ones out of my head. I'm not sure where it's going exactly but I have a very general idea. Hopefully you'll go along for this ride with me. Feel free to point bad editing it helps me improve.**

 **If you like this and my other stories I've posted links to my other profiles in this profile. Stories range from Game of Thrones, Sons of Anarchy, Misfits, Lawless, The Dark Knight, and others.**

 **I made the other profiles for stupid anxiety filled reasons, I'm trying to be mature about it now so hope you'll understand that I had my reasons even if they were dumb :P**

 **So feel to check them out if you're interested!**

 **Now on we go!**

* * *

 **Chapter One - Sapphire**

 _"The sky's, the sea, and you._

 _You're all blue._

 _It's clearly the loneliest color you do._

 _Take In some oxygen._

 _I lift up your chin open your ears, and let something in..."_

 _\- Late Night Alumni_

* * *

Lila's hands were red.

Zahra had made sure to cover them thoroughly with coloured powder.

They were making paint. Finally…

Zahra hadn't stopped asking Lila's father to show her how since he'd first mentioned it three weeks ago.

Lila smiled down at her six year old niece.

They were both crouched with their knees pushed into their chests and their weight resting on their heels against the sun baked dirt beneath their bare feet.

Lila watched as Zahra's light brown eyes lit up. It was nice to see her grinning in the sun. They were both enjoying the sun. They rarely took the risk anymore even when they stayed inside the borders of her father's property.

'Not since…'

"Aunty Lila! _Nika_ , was right it's so bright!" The young girl's voice cut through Lila's thoughts.

Lila nodded happily. Her father had been a chemist in the city and while making paint was not necessarily the highest form of science it was clear how excited he had been when he had presented the different powders to them that morning.

The excitement had rubbed off on her as well.

A chicken balked next to Lila, drawing her out of the enjoyable distraction, it's beak pecked into the dusty dirt near their toes.

"We should put this back and wait for your _Nika_ , Zahra-jo." Lila sighed as she moved to stand up. She held in the groan that she had wanted to make at the movement, her mossy eyes drifting to the rusted metal door guarding the only way past the high walls of dry bricks encircling their tiny practically barren courtyard.

"But…"

If Zahra said anymore Lila did not hear it.

The metal gate's lock turned and the hinges screeched as her father entered the courtyard.

Her head filled with a buzzing noise as a sweating man with slanted eyes wearing what looked like a paper dress suddenly appeared directly behind her father. His dark eyes bore into hers.

She barely had time to gasp before her father closed the door and the stranger disappeared from sight.

* * *

The music pounded through Ilya's head.

With each crashing chord of the numbing metal notes playing through the buds of his iPod he drove his feet hard against the pavement.

He gritted his teeth.

Lola was really getting on his nerves lately.

He thought of her as his heart thudding in frustration while he ran across a walkway through the smog that constantly seemed to be hanging over the Moskva River.

Soon he'd be back on the estate away from the rush and grim of the city.

It was quite a bittersweet feeling.

He loved his home but when his father summoned him like this it typically meant that Bianca was acting out.

'These fucking women.' His gave his head a harsh shake, causing sweat to fall from his long dark brown hair into his eyes.

Wiping his brow with the back of his hand he thought of how Lola had essentially ruined his best friend's birthday the night before with her inappropriate behaviour.

His chest heaved as he neared the other side of the walkway bridging the two sides of the river. He had to stop to clasp his knees for a moment to catch his breath.

'Are you weak, my son?' He heard his mother's voice whisper in his ear.

He jerked to stand up straight, his dark blue eyes darting around the largely empty streets.

His breath fogged the cold air as his eyes seemed to be searching for something beneath the clouded sky.

He frowned, his earbuds were making a weird noise.

'Pieces of shit.' Ilya tugged them out of his ears only to find that noise was still in his head.

As if on instinct his gaze suddenly snapped up to see a smiling Asian man in hospital gown, standing by the entrance of nearby café. There were a few early risers walking right by the man and into the café, but none of them seemed to notice him.

No one seemed to notice except the sweating dark-haired man that the stranger was staring at.

* * *

His mother was yammering on in his ear about staying safe in the city.

She'd been going on about it ever since he'd moved years ago. And as per usual her phone call came at the worst moment. Namely when he had just woken up very late in the morning and was nursing a killer hangover.

"I hear you _Mama._ " Boon-Mae scratched a weary hand over his short black hair.

The air in the room felt stale and grey. In large part due to the dust covered window that was filtering the smog dulled sunlight into his musty apartment.

He tripped over the neon green pumps laying on the floor of his living room on his way to open the window, accidentally hitting Aat in the stomach as he moved. Aat had clearly passed out the night before on the living room floor after Boon had gone to sleep. An occurrence that had been happening more often lately and being a good best friend Boon-Mae hadn't brought up the subject to Aat directly.

Instead he ignored the groaning from the ground and continued on his way to the small window.

"Boon, I wished you'd come home…" a tone of whining entered her muffled voice. "Just for a visit at least."

Knowing it would be easier than arguing Boon simply sighed. " _Mama_ I know. But it depends on when I can get off work." He bit out as he struggled with the latch on the window.

"Psht!" His mother responded snidely, "That bar 'job', they don't even pay you enough."

"That's right Boony." Aat had clearly risen from his place on the floor behind Boon to dig his chin into Boon's shoulder and whisper playfully in his ear.

Boon jerked his head away from his smirking friend, who simply gave him a wink before sauntering back towards the bathroom, swaying his hips as he did. Boon marvelled at the way his friend's lithe body moved and how his real silk kimono slipped gracefully off of one his shoulders.

He thought of his own body, he glanced down the fleshiness of his own belly.

"What was that?" His mother's voice interjected over the phone still pressed against his ear.

"Nothing _Mama._ " Boon returned his focus to the latch, his body feeling strangely weighted down. "I…"

Boon's mouth went dry, an ache filled his head.

He couldn't move his light brown eyes away, a figure wearing white on the busy road four storeys down had entranced him.

* * *

Ofelia's day was already off to a less than great start.

She'd been called in to cover a shift at the café and even though she'd had a late night she couldn't miss the opportunity for a shift.

"Oh Ofelia…" she shook her head at herself, wishing for once she could afford to say no. Or that she could say 'no' to anything period.

Today would be another long day.

Her mother had invited everyone over for dinner. Which, of course, meant that everyone would be over talking about when Ofelia would get a 'real' husband and a 'real' job until four in the morning... and that was being conservative.

It probably also meant that there would be some 'nice boy' from her mother's church who mysteriously had a free night to spend with a group of strangers and an overly enthusiastic mother trying to pawn off her only daughter.

Ofelia gathered her long slightly curly brown hair up into a hair tie. Her dangling silver earrings and the bracelets on her thin tan wrists jingled at the movement.

Rolling her shoulders, Ofelia tried not to think of the headache building at her temples.

'No more late nights.' She lied to herself as she carried on taking the chairs off the table tops inside the café as she prepared for the day.

A knock at the glass door of the café drew her attention.

'Right on time.' Ofelia resisted the urge to roll her brown eyes at the old man energetically waving at her through the glass.

She found it difficult not to return the old man's smile. He looked so endearing in his wrinkled suit that no longer fit his shrinking frame.

"Good morning, Mr. Martinez." She greeted him as she opened the café's front door.

The warm breeze from the quiet sunlight street blew in the familiar scent of lantana flowers.

"Good morning dear Ofelia!" He smiled brightly up at her. "Just wanted to make sure I didn't lose my table."

"You're always the first customer here, so I doubt that would ever happen." She grinned leading him to the corner booth by largest window in the small café.

"I know you young kids laugh at me, but you can never be certain of these things Ofelia."

"I'll take your word for it Mr. Martinez." Ofelia chuckled watching the older man sink into the booth. "I'll bring you your coffee."

"Thank you dear." He gave her another smile, though Ofelia didn't see it.

Her chocolate eyes had travelled back to the open front door of the café where all she could see was an elderly Asian man in gown.

A complete stranger who was smiling as if he knew her.

* * *

Hondo hated waking up.

It was the time of day that made him remember exactly how alone his was.

His light brown eyes watched as his brown arm wandered over the empty sheets next to him.

'Not exactly empty Hondo.' He observed, noting the multiple pages and printouts of pictures scattered over the unused half of his bed.

It had been a particularly productive night and once again he found himself falling asleep with his work.

'This has always been your problem Hondo.' Her words echoed through his head.

Yawning, Hondo stretched his arms out above his head, lazily rubbing his hand over the short hair covering his head once he'd finished.

"You'd better get up my friend." He mumbled to himself, catching sight of the time on his phone when it buzzed and lit up with the delivery of a new text message.

With a grunt Hondo hefted his muscular body off of the mattress on the floor that had been serving as his bed for the past six months. This whole situation was meant to have been temporary, but things had not gone according to plan.

Hence, why he was still in a tiny, brown, bachelor apartment with thin moth-eaten curtains and shitty plumbing.

Hondo made his way to his bathroom, which was one tiled corner of the apartment that at one time had a shower curtain hanging around it to divide the space. The shower curtain had already been long gone by the time Hondo had chosen to rent the place.

Yawning once again, Hondo used his pinky finger to attempt to dig out a strange buzzing in his ears as he pulled down the front of his boxers to use the toilet in his joke of a bathroom.

Hondo contemplated how he would break the news to Mrs. Mbiza.

'… I should milk a little more out of her first…' he decided, not bothering to flush the toilet, as he knew that at this time of the morning everything would be backed up and there'd be no point flushing unless he wanted to flood the whole room again.

The sound of the traffic and shop keepers yelling at few alleys over floated passed the iron bars crisscrossed over the open window and into his apartment.

Hondo clicked his tongue against his white teeth, his light brown eyes studying his own reflection in the mirror above the bowl and tap that served as both a bathroom and kitchen sink. The mirror was barely enough to show his entire face but it was big enough that Hondo could the see shame that had recently taken residence in expression.

Every day it was the same. Except…

Hondo's brow furrowed. He leaned towards the mirror to see if his eyes were tricking him.

His breathing quickened. He spun on his heel to see if the smiling grey haired man he'd just seen in his mirror was still standing in his room next to frayed curtains that were blowing away from his window.

* * *

Kylie's green eyes scanned around her lab.

'Where is it?'

She felt a wave of relief when her eyes landed on the beaker she been searching for.

"Thank god." Kylie smiled gulping down the dark contents of the beaker.

Sighing at the pleasure induced by the taste of coffee on her tongue, she tried not to think about how far behind she was on her workload.

She had veered off course again. Somewhere along the line, instead of reading the findings from the environmental reports she'd been given, she'd started in on her own private research.

Kylie wondered if a good person would feel bad about pursuing personal hobbies on company time.

But that thought only lasted a moment as she recalled which company she worked for.

Not only could could they afford it but they deserved it.

She couldn't help but feel like a total sell out. Her dusky hands gripped the beaker she was holding tighter.

'You need it, Kylie. You had no choice.' Shutting her laptop, Kylie attempted to keep herself from screaming.

She scraped her fingers through her very short blonde hair, tucking some loose strands behind her ears.

The sound of a squeaking gate broke her train of thought.

A smile made its way across her face.

"Mummy! Mummy!" She heard her daughter shouting with excitement as she raced in direction of the house.

"I'm in the lab my lovley!" Kylie called out, placing the empty beaker back onto her desk.

"Mummy!" Astrid ran into the side door of the detached garage-cum-lab with glee written all over her sweet face. Her brown hair had fallen out the braids Kylie had put them in that morning. "Look!" The little girl held her older brother's phone with picture of herself on a diving board up to Kylie's face.

"Look! Look!" The seven year old girl gripped Kylie's arm to get her focus. "I jumped off the highest board!"

"Oh my goodness!" Kylie exclaimed, letting her mouth hang open for affect. "You did! That's wonderful darling. You're such a brave girl." She hugged her daughter close, she could feel her wet togs through her dry clothes.

'Of course you wouldn't change her out of them.' Kylie stopped herself from getting upset, not wanting to squelch her daughter's mood.

"Was it terribly scary?" She asked.

"Only a little, but then daddy and Finn helped me." Astrid grinned down at the image on her brother's phone.

"That's great sweetheart. I'm proud of you." Kylie did her best to keep her attention on her daughter, but the mother in her had to ask. "Where's your brother?"

"He's coming." Astrid responded shortly her remarked punctuated with sound of the screen door to the house slamming closed.

'That'd be Finn.' A spike of anger ran through her. She should have known this would happen.

"Is your dad still here?"

"Dunno." Astrid shrugged distractedly fiddling with the phone in her hands. "Him and Finn had to 'talk'…" She added over the sound of her little stomach grumbling.

'Of course you didn't feed them.'

Kylie bit back her annoyance, and continued with a smile. "You must be pretty hungry after all that daredeviling. Go in and give Finn his phone back. I'll get some sweet treats ready for you. Ok?"

Excitement returned to Astrid's brown eyes, "Ok!" She practically shouted as she ran out of the garage and to the house.

Kylie chewed on the inside of her cheek before finally deciding to stand up and make her way to the door. She didn't know if she wanted to go outside and see him still parked outside her gate or not.

With a deep breath Kylie pushed herself outside into harsh glare of the Perth sun. Holding a hand up to shield her eyes Kylie squinted at the cloud of reddish brown dust that had clearly just been left by the wake of a car on the road.

She squinted harder and took a hesitant step forward, now questioning whether or not she was really seeing a Japanese man in a hospital gown smiling back at her through the dust.

* * *

"Miss, please do we have to do this?"

"What do think my answer to that will be Zion?" Irie sighed, rolling her dark brown eyes at the final student dawdling in her classroom that day.

"But, Miss, I'm never gonna use English." The teenaged boy whined at her about the homework she'd assigned.

"You're using it now Zion."

"That's not what I meant." The boy sniffed, moving closer to where she was sitting at her desk at the front of the room.

"Well, learn your English and then maybe you can communicate to me what you did mean." She snarked in return though her smile was kind.

The boy held her stare for a moment, he inched nearer. "Well, maybe…" his dark eyes burned into hers as he leaned over her desk to whisper "...I'll just beat you to a pulp."

Irie woke up with a start.

Cold sweat covered her body. Touching her hair, she could feel the cloud of bouncy dark spirals on her head were coated with a familiar dampness.

With a sigh Irie heaved herself out of bed to make her nearly nightly journey down the hallway to take a shower.

She thought of the pleasant exchange that had actually occurred with her student.

There had been no threats made but the fact that she was now blending her dreams with reality was troubling.

"Irie?" A tired voice called out from the darkness further down the hall.

"It's fine Mommy. Just had to use the bathroom."

"You sure you alright sweetheart?" Irie bristled at the apprehension in her mother's voice.

"I'm ok. Please don't worry." Irie tried to keep her tone of voice light. "I'm just going to the toilet."

There was pause before her mother responded. "Ok, baby. Goodnight."

"Good night, Mommy."

When she heard the bedroom door close, Irie entered the bathroom and turned on the light.

Under the harsh brightness of the fluorescent glow above her Irie did her best to avoid looking at herself in the mirror. She didn't want to see how tired she looked or how sickly the pallor of her dark skin was. She already knew.

She could hear the crickets singing and the rustling of the Hibiscus tree leaves in the night. It unsettled her.

Peeling off her tank top and underwear Irie stepped into the shower.

The water was cold but it felt good against her raw nerves.

She rubbed her hands over her thick thighs and over her biceps. A sense of reassurance eased her as she felt the strength of her muscles flex beneath her fingers.

Closing her eyes Irie let her head loll back into the water.

Something caused her eyes to pop open. Irie's heart seized. A strange pull caused her to slowly bring her head back down to level to see the sight of a calm old man who was standing with her in the shower.

Irie screamed.

* * *

'I'm never drinking water before bed again.' Rian yawned widely as he flushed his toilet, making a mental note to remind his flatmate to do his bloody chores. Specifically clean the fucking bathroom.

Bleary eyed he made his way back across his shared flat towards his bedroom.

Kicking the door closed with his foot, Rian took off his boxers and did all that he could to keep wakefulness at bay though he could feel a headache coming on and threatening to wake him up fully.

He still had time to catch a few more hours of sleep if only his brain got with the program.

Rubbing his hand in sluggish circles over his flat stomach as he flopped backwards down on to his bed, Rian attempted to soothe himself back to sleep.

It only took a few moments for him to realize that it was a pointless exercise.

"Fuck!" He breathed out, flopping his arm out to his side to punch his balled fist against his bed in frustration. The joint he'd smoked before bed to ease his nerves had completely worn off.

He flicked the lamp on his bedside table on and rolled on to his stomach to lean over the side of his bed so he could dig out his stash.

So many people simply watched porn online, but Rian found it more pleasurable to flip through a magazine time and again. Not that he didn't use the internet at all. But something about magazines brought back the danger of sneaking around behind his parents backs. Besides the pictures could be classy, even beautiful… every now and then.

Pulling the magazines out onto his bed Rian began flipping through. Images of smooth skin and silky hair…

Lately he found that the photos were preferable to the stresses and drama of the real thing.

It seemed that it was only a specific kind of girl around Dublin who was drawn to him and those girls had proven bad for his health.

Rian allowed his eyes to flit up to the full length mirror at the end of his bed, next to his closed bedroom door.

His light hazel gaze as always caught on the slight slant of his eyes.

Usually people didn't notice it. But if someone looked long enough, and put together the small upward slant of his eyes, the inky blackness of his hair and his sharp high cheekbones they'd be able to tell.

Most days Rian did a good job shoving It to the back of his mind, but other days it was more difficult.

His eyes drifted back down to the magazines laying on the mattress before him. They were the same as they had been only moments earlier but they seemed to have lost some of their lustre.

The ache in his head was growing. Rubbing his eyes Rian tried to clear his head.

Exhaling through his nose, he resolved to try to sleep again. Pushing the magazines to one side, Rian reached out shut off the light, but stopped midway through the movement.

A man was in his room.

'Am I sleeping?'

He watched the strangely familiar man in a hospital gown that was standing next to bedside table. Rian had some pretty vivid dreams in the past and this would definitely be up there with them. Either that or his high hadn't worn off yet and it had taken a turn. Somehow he knew that the man wasn't really there.

'I must be dreaming.'

Unsure of what to do, Rian stared up at the face smiling down at him for a breath longer then switched off the light.

* * *

Yuka had stayed up much later than she had intended.

Spending two hours trying to get off over Skype with Nathan hadn't helped at all. If anything she was more frustrated and distracted. Both he and Yuka had damned the shitty internet connection. Nathan was nice enough not to place blame on her though. Even it was mostly her fault they were in this situation. Her dark eyes moved her phone on the table next to her.

She had to be up in six hours to go out fishing with her sister.

This wasn't out of the ordinary though.

Yuka hadn't ever really been able to let an idea go once it entered her head.

Leaning back in her chair, she sipped on her open beer in the bright glare coming from her laptop screen.

Pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose Yuka ignored the sting of tiredness pinching at her eyes and carried on editing her most recent article.

She doubted that anyone would read it except for the locals who bothered to pick up their newsletters but that didn't matter. If one person read it that would be more than enough.

Yuka knew that change would never come quickly for her tiny village teetering on the edge of frigid Hudson's Bay. Way out here it often felt as though they were in their own world. A world where most people seemed to forget that they even existed.

When she'd gone for her degree, Yuka had thought that she had gotten her ticket out of this frozen wasteland.

But the longer she was away from home the more she knew had she to go back. She missed her family, her culture, her cause more than she thought she ever would.

And that was how she had wound up in a trailer, tapping away at her computer when she should have been sleeping.

Taking one last gulp of her beer Yuka decided to call it a night.

Passing a weary hand over her dark eyes, she wondered how important it actually was to brush teeth before sleeping.

As she weighed the pro and cons she realized with some irritation that the point was moot because her bladder had chosen that moment to act up.

Yuka pulled on her boots and jacket, grabbed her toilet paper and a flashlight and made her way out into the cold night.

In the silvery moonlight Yuka asked herself how she could ever have thought of leaving this place.

But that was only in the moonlight. As soon her bottom touch the freezing seat of the makeshift outhouse she had to use to relieve herself, she wondered why she had bothered to return here.

On her way back to her trailer, Yuka fiddled with the roll of toilet paper in her pale hands under the glow of the moon.

She had go to town at get some more soon.

'Joy.' Her mind went to her previous less than pleasant experience getting supplies. The process involved dealing with the leadership in her village.

Lifting her head Yuka looked to her trailer, trying to push out the worries of tomorrow, thinking of the warmth of her waiting bed instead.

That pleasant image was disrupted by the sudden new one of a man, barely dressed and clearly hunched with age standing next to the door of her trailer with a grin on his face.

* * *

Leo smiled to himself.

He had done it.

A faint beeping noise pushed at the edges of his mind.

He had been given a task… a gift. And he had pulled himself out and scraped together enough of what remained of his energy to share it.

None of them were here.

No one had come.

'That's good.' He thought to himself. A tear slipping out his eye and sliding down into his hair.

Laying down now he could see how easy it all was now.

The beeping grew less consistent.

He was done.

He knew he should have felt guilt about leaving them alone with this, but they'd keep each other safe and they would soon discover that they weren't alone.

Smile broke over his face, as his tears dried on his skin.

They'd never be alone again.

The beeping stopped.

* * *

 **Hope you guys enjoyed it! I was gonna go with eight at first but then I couldn't decide who to leave out and the story didn't work as well without them.**

 **Let me know if I should put the names of the countries or cities up! Or if it's more fun to guess!**

 **Not sure when I'll be posting again, but fingers-crossed it's soon!**

 **As always I appreciate any and all feedback.**

 **Check my profile for links to my other accounts if you're interested.**


	2. Chapter 2: Demons

**Hey! I know there are a few of you out there who've started reading this. Hopefully I've held your interest enough to get to this second chapter.**

 **Please let me know what you think. I'd appreciate any feedback. I feel a little unsure of this story, but I was holding back posting for months and couldn't keep myself any longer.**

 **Speaking of long... this chapter is super long. I hope to keep them shorter but hope it's ok for right now since everyone's getting acquainted :)**

 **Let's go!**

* * *

 **Chapter Two - Demons**

 _"... All of your demons will wither away_

 _Ecstasy comes and they cannot stay_

 _You'll understand when you come my way_

 _'Cause all of my demons have withered away…"_

 _\- Fatboy Slim ft. Macy Gray_

* * *

Boon had been having a good day at work.

'Well, night technically…' He corrected himself as he made note of the fact that it was one in the morning.

He'd made a killing in tips and his bitchy little boss had agreed to meet with him to talk about a raise and job title change.

Aside from the headache that had been squeezing his brain for the past twelve hours, Boon was feeling fairly happy with himself.

"Boony baby. We gotta go out tonight!" Aat slung his thin arm over Boon's broad shoulders as they made their way through busy, spice filled streets of Taipei.

Boon felt his empty stomach clench. The street meats smelt so good but if he was drinking tonight then he couldn't afford to eat the fatty foods he was craving.

"I don't know." He spared a thought for the waft of pork sizzling on a nearby street cart.

"Girl!" Aat exclaimed fanning himself elegantly with a pink paper fan and tsking at Boon, "We haven't been out in ages!"

"We went out last night."

"That's what I mean." Aat casually brushed off as he moved to examine a pair of earrings hanging in a stall jammed up against one of the buildings lining the crowded street.

Boon had wanted to respond with something clever but he couldn't.

Air that he was breathing changed.

His light brown eyes roamed the plaza that suddenly surrounded him.

The sunset cast a kind of natural light that Boon had never seen before, the smell of clean air, free of diesel exhaust and free of the scent of sweat overwhelmed him.

'Air…' He inhaled deeply, being taken back to his childhood village.

Boon couldn't explain how but it felt so real. He looked down at his sandals and could actually sense the hard stones that were laid out in a curved pattern under them. He looked up and saw a fountain with a man in black and woman in red dancing what looked like the flamenco if he was remembering the videos he'd seen online correctly.

'What is happening?' His wide eyes looked to the small crowd of people watching the couple perform.

Most of them looked like tanned Europeans and many were wearing bright colours.

'Where am I?'

Confused expression still on his face, Boon hypnotically raised his hands to clap as the dancers finished.

"Hey!" All at once Aat's pale snapping fingers appeared in front of Boon's face. "What are you clapping at?" His short friend asked, flicking Boon's chin with his fan prompting Boon to close his mouth.

The inside of Boon's tongue was dry and as he shifted his gaze downward to see his hands mid-clap in front of him, all he could do was shake his head in disbelief.

It had felt so real.

* * *

Ofelia had not meant to stop but she had been enraptured.

She was supposed to have been home and entertaining her mother's guests right now but she had opted to stay later at the café than necessary.

At least that guaranteed her a reasonable excuse for having missed out on time with her family and the mystery boy who was sure to have shown up.

But the extended detour had caused her to be later than she had intended.

Ofelia had watched, her dark brown eyes unable to move from the sight of the dancers who had been drawing a crowd in front of Plaça de Catalunya.

As she raced home, she tried not to think of the dancers.

The female dancer in particular. The gentle curve of her back. The look of passionate longing in her dark eyes. The smooth skin of her thigh that showed when she wrapped her leg around her partner's body.

Ofelia felt a weight resting on her chest. Her headache from earlier in the day returning in full force.

She looked down at her own long legs and thought of the power coiled in them.

Her mother had always bemoaned the fact that Ofelia hadn't ever tried to pursue modelling and whatsmore that Ofelia hadn't carried on with her promising gymnastics career.

And Ofelia couldn't blame her.

'You should be seen, Cara mia.' Her mother would say.

She knew her mother only wanted what was best for her.

Ofelia tried to remember this as she faced her mother's too tight smile when she finally arrived at their apartment.

"Ophé!" She heard the chorus of her whole family sloppily greeting her from the living room of their spacious apartment.

She could see her brother, her uncles, her aunts and cousins sprawled out on various pieces of furniture just over her mother's head, which as per usual had not single hair out of place.

"You're late, mi amor." Her mother spoke through her perfect white teeth.

"I'm sorry, mama. I texted." Ofelia mumbled, dipping her head slightly. A strange smell filled her nose. 'Is that…?'

"Still," Her mouth barely moved as she sighed, putting pressure on Ofelia's arm as she drew her into the cozily furnished living room. "You almost missed Rodrigo."

Ofelia didn't have time to respond before her mother practically shoved her into the chest of the man who had stood up to greet her in front of her family. He towered over her which was an achievement considering she was 5' 11'' herself.

In an easy yet expensive looking dress shirt, with his hair perfectly coiffed back, he was the exact definition of tall, dark, suave and handsome.

Ofelia could just see her friends drooling all over him.

But she wasn't her friends.

And he wasn't for her.

"Hello." She said awkwardly, her mind more engaged with figuring out why their pristine living room suddenly smelt like marijuana.

"Hello," he flashed her a charming smile and held out his hand in greeting. "Your mother's been telling me a lot about you at…"

"At church." Ofelia finished the familiar statement for him. She had meant for the phrasing to come across lightly but the scent in her nose was causing her face to pinch.

Rodrigo frowned. "Is something wrong?"

Ofelia felt her mother's fingers discreetly pinch her elbow, "Ah…" her large brown eyes went from the man's frown to her mother's fake smile to her older brother's teasing smirk and then back up to Rodrigo's face. "I'm just a bit worn out from work. Just give me a second to freshen up." She spoke quickly, prying her arm away from her mother and rushing to her bedroom.

Shutting the door and pressing her back against it to keep it closed, Ofelia inhaled deeply. It only took that breath for her to register that the smell hadn't left her nose.

* * *

Irie groaned.

She rolled over on to her back. Her arm felt heavy as she blindly searched over her mattress for her phone. Her temples were throbbing. She did not want to be waking up at all.

Rubbing the sleep dust from her eyes, Irie checked her phone to see that it was well past noon.

She wasn't surprised.

Every weekday Irie found she got no more than five hours of sleep.

Weekends she'd was in bed for anywhere between ten to twelve hours but her sleep was just as fitful and her rest was almost always interrupted.

"Irie, girl!" A burst of energy busted into her dark room, flooding it with muggy tropical daylight.

Mildly annoyed Irie covered her dark brown eyes with her forearm, as her younger brother pushed open her bedroom curtains.

He pulled on a small lever next to the window to cause the slanted panes of glass to open and let air into her humid room.

"Roje! Why are you in here?" The young woman exclaimed sitting up in her bed, she made sure to pull her sheets up to cover up her underwear and tank top.

"Because, dear sister," he smiled that smile that usually got him what he wanted. "I missed you…" he took a long drag of the spliff that Irie hadn't noticed him holding before now.

"Please don't smoke that in here. You're gonna make all my stuff smell." She exclaimed in irritation as her brother chose to ignore her request in favour of flopping down on to the bed to sit by her.

He took another puff and blew the smoke towards her as he spoke, "You sleeping so late probably isn't good for your health."

"Thank you for the advice little brother." Irie rolled her eyes.

"You're welcome." He grinned for a moment, allowing a silence to fall between them. Roje took her hand in his, entwining his fingers with hers. She turned her head to read the expression on his face, but he refused to meet her gaze. "I mean it Irie."

She watched his eyes, a softer brown than her own, move down to where their hands were clasped together.

Her own gaze drifted down to follow his. Her darker brown starkly contrasting his lighter chocolate coloured skin tone.

Irie's heart thumped in her chest.

Roje squeezed her hand. "Are you taking care of yourself?"

"Of course I am." She tried to smile convincingly, nudging her nose playfully against his shoulder. "And I'm your big sister. Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?"

"Maybe…" he allowed himself a small chuckle, giving her hand another squeeze, growing quiet once again before speaking softly. "But it's getting worse isn't it."

Irie wanted to yank her hand out of his and tell him she was fine, but her heart was pounding far too loudly in her ears in a strange rhythm, it almost sounded like…

'Clacking?' She frowned, shaking her head to try to clear it of the noise. 'Where is that coming from?' Irie twisted her body around slightly to search her small room for the source of the sound.

"Irie?" Roje asked, prodding gently for her attention back. "What happened last night?"

With the mysterious clacks still in her head, Irie responded to her brother. "It'll be fine Roje." She tried to hold back the flood of nerves she felt at the events of the previous night. "I promise." She gave him a soft smile, however evidently a smile wasn't going to deter him this time around.

"Mommy said…"

That was enough to make Irie pull her hand away from her brother. "You didn't tell her did you?" She breathed in an angry whisper.

The sound of the clacking raised in volume.

"I promised I wouldn't Irie." Her brother's countenance became more serious. "But I don't know why you won't tell her about you carrying on with it. She'd understand."

Her brow knit together. The clacking grew even louder. She couldn't think with the clatter in her mind.

"Do you hear that?" She questioned him with frustration her voice.

"Hear what?" Roje asked with confusion written in his dark eyes.

"Tha…" in the space of second the noise stopped and she was left with the sound of the wind and the rain beginning to patter on the open panes of her window.

* * *

Rian was happy.

He loved the smell of rain.

His skin felt sticky in the heat and outside the window he could see the grey skies and dense green foliage surrounding the house.

Someone… a woman was talking to herself.

"Hello?" He attempted to see where the voice was coming from, but whoever it was hidden just past the edge of the doorway to the room he was in.

"Rian!" A hand slapped down on his shoulder.

He woke with a jolt. Jerking his head, Rian tried to catch his bearings.

The young black-haired man, took in where he was seated at the small kitchen table in his flat with his laptop open in front of him.

Glancing up to his left he saw that it was his flatmate, who was incidentally also his best friend, that had woken him up so abruptly.

"Jesus, Jaime! You tryin' to give me a fuckin' heart attack or somethin'?" Rian stared up angrily at his blond friend. Noticing with some added annoyance that the headache that had been bothering him all day still hadn't faded.

"Sorry mate, but you were talkin' in yer sleep." Jaime offered in explanation, giving Rian's shoulder a squeeze before walking towards the kettle on their kitchen counter, "An' you were droolin' on yerself."

"What?" Rian frowned, doing a double take down at the dark, damp patch that had formed on the front of the grey t-shirt he was wearing.

"An' what was that you were talkin' in?" Jaime asked.

"Huh?" Rian was only half paying attention.

He'd checked the time on his laptop and realized that he had dozed off for about half an hour… probably due to his interrupted sleep the night before. He yawned as stood up and took off his shirt on his way to his bedroom. It was almost time to get going.

"You were sayin' something."

"I dunno, I was probably jus' babblin' a whole lot of nothin'." Rian replied, brushing a hand through his short messy hair.

His dream playing on the fringes of his mind. He could still practically taste the salt air from the sea on his tongue.

Licking his lips, Rian dug a cleanish grey undershirt and a white dress shirt out of his closet.

He watched as the white sleeves covered up the series of tattoos that ran up both of his muscular arms. It never gave him much joy to hide them but he had to present himself in a certain light tonight.

Adjusting the cuffs of the dress shirt his lips twitched with a smile.

While he could cover the images on his arms the ones on his hands and knuckles couldn't be helped.

Tattoos were a big part of his dad's culture and the fact that his father had wanted Rian to be distanced from that side of the family had only driven Rian to pursue any avenue to put more of that banned culture in his world, especially when he had been in that pissed off teenage phase of his life.

Rian still remembered that day that he and his father had gone from fighting about the tattoos to laughing about them.

'Weird day.' He thought with the odd scent of sweet rain and the sensation of warm wind suddenly hitting him.

He shook it off as he watched himself failing to knot a tie at his throat in his bedroom mirror for a few minutes.

'Why do I even bother?' Eventually giving up he returned to the kitchen.

"You mind?" He held the black tie out to his flatmate, who was now sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through the code Rian had been writing before he'd fallen asleep.

"You goin' then?" Jaime put down the cup of tea he'd been nursing and took the tie from Rian.

"Looks like it." The dark haired man sighed, on his way towards the bathroom. He quickly brushed his teeth and bent his knees to try to tame his untidy hair.

'I really need to get this fixed.' They had been promised that the bathroom mirror would be replaced right away. That was five years ago when they'd first started renting the place but Danny, their friendly and bumbling landlord, had yet to follow through.

Rian was only 6' 0'' but the 'temporary' solution was hanging way too low for any reasonable person to put up with for this long.

But there was no point complaining to Danny. Their landlord had good intentions but no follow through, besides the rent was a godsend and Jaime had nothing to make fuss over as he was several inches shorter than Rian. So they'd just dealt with it.

After deciding to give up on his hair as well, Rian found Jaime with the tie perfectly knotted around his throat and his blue eyes glued to the computer screen again.

"Damn man…" Jaime muttered. "I forget how good you are sometimes." He lolled his head back to eye Rian was some awe tinged sadness. "You shouldn't be wasting this…" Jaime indicated to the screen. "Commissions for discount clothing apps and security processing… such a shame." Rian watched as his best friend shook his head mournfully in front of him.

"I've heard it before, Jaime." Rian did all he could to keep his voice level, he presented Jaime with his open hand, "If you've nothing new to add, I'll be takin' my tie back now."

Jaime's blue gaze stuck on him for a breath longer before he relented and gave Rian the tie back.

"Why are you even going to this sham?"

"Because Ma's goin' and Da tends to be a total twat at these things." Rian swallowed thickly, thinking of how his father would get when someone started in on Rian's mother.

And someone always seemed to be starting in on his mother.

"Fair enough." Jaime shrugged, "Just sayin' it's yer funeral."

"Thanks for the input mate." Rian bit through the pounding in his head, instead trying focus tightening the tie around his neck and the calming sound of soft rain drops falling against the windows of the flat.

"I always got your back, mo chara." **my friend**

Rian paused in his distracted movements to look down to give Jaime a genuine grin. "I know. Mise freisin." **me too**

In the dull quiet that followed it only took a brief moment longer for it to dawn on Rian that there were no clouds in the evening sky and that there was not a single drop of rain to be seen or heard falling outside.

* * *

Yuka had been walking through the snow for a couple of hours.

The sunlight reflecting off the surface the icy landscape had always helped to clear her thoughts.

Fishing with her older sister had not gone particularly well.

Una had evidently taken it upon herself to 'reign' Yuka in on behalf of the counsel and 'for her own good' according to Una.

Gritting her teeth Yuka moved as smoothly as she was able with snowshoes attached to her feet.

Today's walk was not helping, especially with building pressure that had not left her head since the previous night.

Yuka had simply chalked the strange occurrence to one too many beers and the lateness of the hour. But she couldn't get over how her head was aching and how she felt at odds with herself.

At times she wondered if she should have even bothered coming back.

Most of her family didn't seem to believe that her cause was worth the trouble.

'Most…'

A small smile flickered over her lips as she thought of her father. He had been a strong figure in the community. Yuka still remembered how their village had thrived when he had been providing counsel to the chief of their people decades before.

But when his health had started declining twelve years ago, a slow slide into corruption and disillusion had taken place in her home.

A blistering wind blew past, burning her cheeks with its harshness.

Yuka a reveled in it. Taking it in deeply.

Her moment of tranquility was disrupted however as her lungs suddenly filled with smoke that caused Yuka to begin hacking.

Gasping for a breath, Yuka lifted her watering light brown eyes to see a dark room filled with people who were watching a brightly lit stage with a drag queen performing on it.

She turned her head to see if there was a trace of where she had been before, but she couldn't find any sight of it.

Yuka blinked and she was back on her frozen trail.

Her breath fogged in front of her and she swallowed down the clean air.

'What is happening to me?' A panicked string of thoughts ran through her mind.

Her eyes watered for a new reason as she searched the barren landscape around her.

She was alone with the burn of cigarette smoke still in her mouth.

* * *

Hondo's head was buzzing with the thrum of the city around him.

For some it may have been considered early in the morning but these vendors and people milling about him had been up for hours.

At times he almost would forget that this was the same country that had lived in poverty for so long.

Hondo knew that much of the area he lived in was a tourist trap. Designed and filled with vendors who looked happy so that they could make a sale to fill the empty stomachs of their babies.

So many changes had been promised and yet… He thought of what they said in American movies. 'The rich get richer...' his light brown eyes wandered to the alleys hiding the true colours of the city. 'Poor get poorer.'

Hondo rolled his shoulders when his phone vibrated in his hand. 'Speaking of which…'

Ms. Ziza, the woman who had hired him had texted him for the third time that day.

"Time to get to work Hon." He mumbled to himself, as he ducked into a sunlit alley.

Hondo held the phone up to his ear, inside the relatively quiet alleyway.

"Hello?" He asked into the receiver, his gaze weary eying the alley for any potential eavesdroppers or people who were willing stab someone over a cellphone. "Ms. Ziza?"

"Hondo?" Her trembling voice crackled over the phone. "Is that you?"

"It is Ms. Ziza."

"I've been trying to reach you all morning."

"I know. I haven't had a chance to even rest Ms. Ziza. If I told you the night I had…" He sighed with some put on emphasis.

"What?" She asked barely bothering to hide her panic. "Did you find something?"

"I'm very close, but…" Hondo trialed off deliberately trying to draw her out.

"But what?"

"There's this security guard who…"

"Whatever it is he wants give it to him."

"He wants money Ms. Ziza. I would have paid him myself but this case has been difficult and my funds have been depleted."

"I'll advance you whatever you need!" She shrieked, Hondo could practically see frantically pacing the floor of her shiny, white mansion.

'Some women love their husbands, Hondo.'

He'd barely had the thought before Ms. Ziza's sharp voice cut through again, "Just please find out what he's doing."

"It'll be quite expensive."

"I'll pay."

"If you insist Ms. Ziza." He smiled to himself in the quiet street, feeling fairly proud of his achievement.

Until he felt something brush against his side. Looking down he wondered if a young pickpocket had just run past him while he'd been distracted.

'I spoke too loudly…' Hondo's mind wandered back to think if he missed signs of someone following him. He checked his pockets and found nothing to be out of place.

Then he felt it again, this time there was the sound of childlike laughter as well.

His head felt hot.

He felt small arms wind their way around his hips.

"I love you Mummy." The voice that had laughed only moments ago, was now speaking up at him.

'What?' Hondo ducked away from whatever spirit was taunting him.

His light eyes stuck to the vacated spot he had only just been standing in.

There was no one in sight.

'Am I going mad?' He asked, his thoughts returning to the old man he had seen in his mirror when he had woken up.

"Hondo?" Ms. Ziza's concerned voice penetrated his troubling thoughts.

"M-Ms. Ziza. I'll have to call you back."

"What happened? Is it my…"

"I'll have to call you back." Hondo said quickly, hanging up the call as he backed away from where he had felt what could only have been a ghost hug him.

* * *

Kylie was exhausted.

The day had been a particularly annoying one.

Especially with the migraine that had taken a hold of her head.

"Mummy!"

Cracking her neck Kylie, picked herself up out of the lounge chair that she had only just settled into.

'This is what you signed up for.' She thought to herself, shaking her blonde head as she made her way off the outdoor deck, away from her long awaited glass of wine and back into her little bungalow towards her daughter's bedroom.

"What is it darling?" Kylie called out, as she neared the slightly ajar bedroom door.

Her daughter was sitting up in her bed with a tangle of fairy lights on her bed frame that were surrounding her with a gentle glow.

Kylie felt her heart stop at that beautiful sight.

'This is what you signed up for.' She smiled her brown-haired little girl.

"I kicked Harry under the bed." Astrid indicated down near to the sheets that had come untucked at the foot of her bed.

With a small sigh, Kylie made her way to the edge of her daughter's bed to pick up the platypus stuffie she'd had since she was three years old, moving to sit on the bed once she had.

"You're a little bit grown up to be scared to look under the bed now, aren't you?" Kylie gave her daughter a grin and batted her nose with the teddy bear before handing the soft toy over.

Astrid giggled, hugging Harry close to her chest.

"I don't get scared all the time… just sometimes."

"That's ok, sweetheart. I was just teasing." She held the top of the duvet so that Astrid could wriggle down and get comfortable under the covers. "Your brother had me checking his closet until he was twelve." Kylie said with a grin, "Sometimes I still do." Added in a whisper, causing Astrid to chuckle, over the sound of a guitar strumming through the open bedroom door.

"Speak of the devil. He's getting good isn't he?"

Astrid's eyes brown eyes were already falling closed, as she yawned a half response. "Wha…?"

"Nevermind." Kylie leaned forward to kiss her daughter's forehead. "Sweet dreams, darling. I love you."

By the time Kylie had made it back to the hallway, Astrid was snoring and she could hear Finn playing guitar down the hall.

'That's really sweet sounding.' Kylie thought to herself, ordinarily their home was filled with the sound of thrashing or screeching chords. He rarely played softer music which was Kylie's preference, though she enjoyed his rougher material. 'He's so gifted.'

Kylie found herself drifting down the hall towards her son's room.

She yearned for the days where her baby would let her tuck him in. Lately it seemed like everything she did was wrong.

Kylie tapped on his door.

"Yeah?"

Taking that as invitation Kylie opened the door to her son's room.

Her light brow furrowed when she was met with the sight of him sitting at his desk hunched over a textbook. Her green eyes found both of his guitars clearly resting in their stands on the other end of the room.

"Did you want something?" Finn's annoyed voice broke over the sound of the strumming that was still playing somewhere.

"I…" Kylie took in the frustrated look on her son's face. He had her green eyes and her dirty blonde hair but everything else about him was just like his father. By the looks of it Astrid was going to be short like her, but already at 6' 4'' Finn was a full foot taller than Kylie. "I just wanted to say good night." She decided that telling her already pissed off teenaged son about phantom guitars playing her head would not be the brightest idea.

"Well… good night." He brushed her off as per usual, turning his head back to the homework sitting under the light of his desk lamp.

"Is…" Kylie swallowed thickly, gathering her courage as she stepped further into the room. "Is that your Chem homework… sweetheart?"

"Yes." He gritted out, without looking at her.

"Do you need a hand?"

"If I did, I'd ask." He said his voice sharp against her ears.

Kylie felt her courage wilt. "Ok." She swallowed, moving back to the door. "G-" Kylie was cut off by a sudden shiver that overtook her. She had never felt so cold in her life, she swore she could see the blinding white ice that had caused her body to shudder.

"Are you ok?" Her son's voice pulled her back, the guitar she had heard early had grown louder.

Kylie looked to see that he had turned to face her, there was worry in his expression.

Taking a deep breath, Kylie steadied herself. "I'm ok. Just someone walking over my grave."

Finn gave her simple nod in response and swivelled back to his homework.

'Ok.'

"Well, good night then…" Kylie dawdled by the door, "I love you."

"Night." He tossed nonchalantly over his shoulder. "You mind closing the door?"

The guitar stopped.

Kylie gave a weak smile that he obviously didn't care to see, "Sure."

* * *

Ilya's head had been filled with the hard thump of electronic music blasting out of his home speakers for the last half hour.

And even that hadn't been enough.

This headache was driving him insane.

"Fuck." His blue eyes searched clean modern lines of his kitchen's marble countertops for a bottle of anything to help soothe the constant jabbing in his brain.

Whatever it was that Andrei had given him at the club had not worked as advertised. Andrei had sworn that within an hour Ilya's troubles would be far away and that his mind would essentially be sailing off to another planet.

But that hadn't been the case. They had gotten to the nightclub early because Andrei had wanted to see some opening act for the night.

It had not gone successfully, there had been no point in Ilya even bothering to go out.

At only half an hour past midnight, he was already home.

'This is pathetic.'

It took a moment for his woozy brain to realize that his phone had been ringing. It was probably Bianca. He was meant to be heading up to the estate the day after next. And right on schedule his big sister had decided to start gathering allies for the upcoming skirmish with their father by telling Ilya 'what had really happened'.

'Or it could be Lola….' He considered his fiancé for a moment. He was supposed to have met her at the club at midnight. 'Serves her right for going out.' He measured Lola against what the appropriate conduct for a fiancé to a man of his stature should have been.

Ilya poured himself a glass of water and left his phone buzzing in the kitchen. As he moved into his darkened lounge towards the floor to ceiling windows in his penthouse loft.

Despite her shortcomings Ilya had to admit that he did like Lola's company. Aside from Andrei she was his closest friend.

'I'll call her.' The sound of his phone vibrating behind him stopped. 'Tomorrow.'

Looking out at the twinkling city lights below, just beyond the patio outside the panes of thick glass, Ilya tried to think of the last time he had felt this strange way.

The light from the kitchen was reflecting off of the window before him. Ilya could see the confusion in his dark blue eyes. Drawing a weary hand over the godsend of scruff covering his chin, he thought of the sinking feeling in his stomach and what it reminded him of.

Without much of an idea of what he was doing Ilya made his way upstairs, past a second sitting area and into a his relatively small and sparsely decorated bedroom. He could see the city lights just as bright through the wall of windows on the opposite end of the dark room.

Ilya turned up the dimmer to cast a warm glow on the contents of the room. There was very little in his grey sleeping space, besides a king bed, and a metal nightstand with a lamp and a coaster on it.

Cleanliness and organization had been an attitude he had carried with him from childhood.

A small twinge struck him in his stomach as he looked around his meticulous room, urging him to open the safe he had installed the back of his closet.

He placed his glass down to the coaster atop his nightstand before pushing aside the pressed shirts hanging according to colour and pattern in his walk in wardrobe. Ilya knelt down to spin the tumbler with sure, steady fingers.

As the door to the safe fell open with a metallic sigh, Ilya eyed the contents with some weariness. A few thousand dollars in American cash, his passport, the West German Sig P220 his father had given him on his thirteenth birthday and an old tape recorder with single cassette tape sitting next to it.

He felt slowed down and woozy as he lifted the cassette and recorder out of the safe. 'Maybe they're working...' Ilya thought of the pills Andrei had given him earlier. He made his way to sit on the edge of his pristinely made bed.

Carefully, due to the sudden clumsiness of his fingers, Ilya pulled the cassette out of its case. He popped the recorder open, hands trembling, his eyelids drugged and heavy as he placed the tape into the machine.

Closing it, he let go of a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

Ilya's mouth ticked, as he willed himself to push down on the play button that his left thumb was hovering over.

'Come Iylusha…' he heard in his head, causing his eyes to squeeze shut tighter. He raised arm to press the edge of the recorder hard against his forehead in frustration.

"Argh!" Ilya fell back to lie on his bed. Eyes still closed and fist still clenched around the recorder. He wanted to scream.

But just as he was about to open his mouth, he heard it.

Something soothed the tension that had built in his muscles.

Ilya felt his expression change as in the dark behind his closed eyes he heard the sound of singing. Sweet and soft, like a lullaby gently rocking him.

'Jesus. These drugs are good.' He thought to himself, though it did not take him long to recognize that this was not how any high he'd ever been on before had felt. And he had been on a lot.

This felt strange. Real. As though somehow the person… the woman singing had known he had needed it.

He shook his drowsy head, too tired to make sense of much anymore. The darkness that had been edging around his mind was beginning to overtake him now.

Ilya allowed the tape recorder to slip out of his hand as he breathed out the words, "Thank you" to the empty room.

* * *

Lila had realized that this was probably her own fault. She had been patching up the holes in her father's socks in the dim lamplight of the room she shared with Zahra hours ago when she had heard it.

Zahra had been peacefully snoring on their thin mattress, in the quiet night there was nothing more than that but the sound of her father belching in his sleep from the only other room in their home and crickets whistling outside their barred windows.

It had been frightening to hear the sudden thumping and loud crashing of music out of nowhere. Lila had stuck her finger with a needle in surprise.

She'd had blinked her hazel eyes at the room surrounding her to make sure that she and her niece were still the lone occupants.

The noise was deafening, she could feel the beat pounding from her feet and into her chest.

It reminded her of too many things… bad things.

Normally Lila would not have bothered anyone with her troubles, especially Zahra, but the thought of the old man with slanted eyes that no one else seemed to have seen and now the noise in her head made her beyond anxious. She had to know.

Ignoring the stress on her limbs Lila had crawled over to her niece and shaken her awake. As soon as the little girl had opened her bleary eyes to look up at Lila's uncovered face the noise stopped.

"Did you hear it?" Lila had asked peering around once more.

Zahra been confused and stated that she hadn't heard anything.

Lila had hoped this would mean that Zahra would drift off back to sleep. But the damage was done for Lila now had to spend the next few hours trying to lull her young niece back to sleep.

This had been extremely difficult as Zahra seemed to be hearing 'something' in the distance and growing frightened every 15 minutes of some shadow she saw.

"Shh…" Lila had finally managed to get Zahra to lay against her as they both rested atop their mattress. "There's nothing out there. Aunty Lili was just being a bit silly."

"Hmmm…" Zahra nodded with a yawn, though her eyes were still stuck on the doorway of the room.

"Do not worry my love." Lila whispered into her niece's light brown hair. "Nika and I won't let anything happen to you."

Zahra simply cuddled in closer to her Aunt's side.

Lila readjusted her position and began to hum as she stroked Zahra's feather soft hair. Hair that was so much easier to manage than her own thick, hip length mane.

She thought of the dark reddish brown locks that were all that she had left of what little beauty she'd ever had. It was an uncommon colour and that might have impressed her husband if she'd had ever gotten married.

'But all that's gone now…'

Zahra eyes began to fall close as Lila sung her a lullaby from when she had been a baby. "Asleep you're a beautiful child…"

As she sang, Lila felt a pang of guilt at being so vain and selfish in her thoughts.

'I ought to just cut it off.' She bit the inside of her lips, as she hummed the next verse. Her cheeks felt damp as she went on singing. Lila let her eyes fall closed as well, hoping that sleep would come for her soon as well.

Her fingers continued passing over Zahra long hair…

Except… the hair wasn't long now. Lila's face creased in confusion.

The hair beneath her fingertips was coarser than Zahra's, it smelt of something musky that she had never smelt before. It wasn't short but it certainly was not as long as Zahra's hair.

Daring herself to open her eyes Lila was relieved and oddly troubled to find her niece's sleeping head still under her hand.

Lifting her hand to her face, Lila frowned, 'What is happening to me?'

* * *

 **Once again hope you enjoyed this. Please let me know what you thought of it!**

 **And please excuse the editing errors if you can.**

 **Thanks again!**


	3. Chapter 3: Hope There's Someone

**Hi! This one's gonna be more of a labour of love I can tell. I may have bitten off more than I can chew, so it might be a slower pace than I had originally thought but please bare with me.**

 **I know that not everyone would be interested in a story with all original characters. Thanks for giving this a chance!**

 **Chapter Three – Hope There's Someone**

"… _There's a ghost on the horizon_

 _When I go to bed_

 _How will I fall asleep tonight?_

 _How will I rest my head?..."_

– _Avicii_

* * *

Ofelia had been dealing with a lot lately. Her mother. The strange sensations she'd been having with increasing frequency. Her mother. The semi-permanent stall in her singing career. Her mother…

"Ay sweetheart, you really should get out more." Mrs. Rosmira chimed in from the table Ofelia had just cleared. "Especially while you're young."

Ofelia up to that point had been preoccupied with her best friend, Sofia, tailing her around the café in an attempt to get her to go out tonight.

"Thank you!" Sofia exclaimed to Mrs. Rosmira in exacerbated triumph. The older woman smiled at the short, brown haired woman that had been berating Ofelia.

Rolling her dark eyes Ofelia made her way back towards the counter to drop off the dirty dishes she'd collected. "I told you, Sofi. I don't have time."

"Oh please!" Her friend exclaimed with that same overdramatic air she'd had since they were children. "Ophé, you haven't come out with us in ages! The girls all miss you. Laura's been ask…"

Sofia stopped talking when Ofelia nearly dropped the tray of sugar dispensers she'd been carrying to each table.

"Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!" Sofia held her hands up in an effort to backpedal.

Ofelia eyed her friend with some weary disbelief.

With an apologetic shrug Sofia went on, "Look. All I'm saying is that you always seem to be working or helping your mother with something for her church." Her tone of voice had grown less demanding. "I just miss the fun times we used to have."

Ofelia found it difficult to remain upset as she took in her oldest friend's sincere expression.

"Ok." She allowed, watching Sofia's face light up. "But not tonight. Sometime soon though, I promise." Ofelia added quickly.

Sofia regarded Ofelia for a time before responding, "All right. I'll take it."

"Good." Ofelia said bitterly before shooting Sofia a smile.

"Good." Sofia returned the expression before glancing down at the time on her phone's screen. "Ay! I better head out. My new boss is a total lunatic." Sofia gave Ofelia two pecks on each of her cheeks in farewell.

"I don't think him wanting you to be at work on time is enough to classify the man as a lunatic." Ofelia called after her friend who simply shrugged and blew her a kiss as she left the café.

With a soft smile still on her own face, Ofelia tapped her foot and looked around the vacated café. Vacated except for Mrs. Rosmira and Mr. Martinez. The morning rush had died down and now she had to find tasks to fill her time.

She eventually decided to finish placing the sugar dispensers on the tables and then get to work on sorting out the dangerously chipped water glasses from the chipped but still usable ones.

As she went about her work, Ofelia began singing to herself without realizing it. An old habit she had never been able to shake.

'And one you can't seem to turn into a career.' Her mother spoke in her mind.

Pushing aside the wrench in her gut Ofelia focused on her actual job and the tenor of her own voice as it carried the familiar melody she was singing.

"Wow…"

Ofelia jerked around in surprise at the sound of the accented voice that had just spoken. Her warm brown eyes scanned the café for the sight of the young man whose voice she had just heard. She knew it hadn't been Mrs. Rosmira or Mr. Martinez, both of whom were now clapping at her unplanned performance.

Feeling a blush creep up her cheeks, Ofelia ducked her head in a slight bow.

Her mind only fleetingly distracted from figuring out where that 'Wow' had come from.

* * *

That morning had been a weird one Rian had to admit.

It had started like any other, he had gotten up and had his breakfast.

Only that morning, while he'd been sipping his tea in his pants and skimming over the local newspaper at the table in the tiny kitchen of his cold flat, Rian had heard something enchanting.

He had felt transported by the sound. His light hazel eyes had closed of their own accord to enjoy the sound that he had thought must have been coming from the radio in Jaime's bedroom.

However, when he'd raised his eyelids, he was not at all prepared to see a gorgeous woman with brown distracted eyes and long black hair that flowed down her back. She was singing to herself as she placed sugar on various tables in what appeared to be a warm, sunlit coffee shop.

A small smile had graced his lips as he watched her lithe body move around the space, her voice was amazing, soothing yet sensual.

"Wow…" he had barely uttered it, before he'd been brought back to his dreary, grey, damp, Irish flat.

Rian had to have sat in the silence of his kitchen for a full half an hour trying to understand what had just happened to him.

He had been shocked out of his thoughts by Jaime, who had decided to question him on the events of the previous night. Namely on how Rian's extended family had behaved at his cousin's wedding.

Rian hadn't had much to report as surprisingly enough the whole ordeal had gone over relatively smoothly, with his father only drunkenly threatening just one of his other family members with death.

The conversation had been enough for Rian to force the beautiful woman at his odd breakfast out of his mind as he had gone about his day. He chose to believe it had been yet another one of the increasingly frequent vivid daydreams he'd been prone to having lately.

Rian had been able to keep this state of mind as he made his way through the various items on his list of things to do.

He shot the shit with Jaime, coded for a few clients, phoned his mother to console her about his father, made a trip down to the shops, and headed out to the gym.

Which was where he found himself now, staring at himself in the brightly lit mirror of the facility as he lifted weights to the beat of the thumping orchestral music blaring his ears.

Rian had always loved physical exercise. Something about it had calmed him in moments when he felt ready to explode with anger or sadness or whatever it was he was feeling.

His father had once held high hopes that his only son would be something of a football star… somehow.

Rian still wanted to scoff at that. While he was a decent player, Rian had never had anything on precision and aim of the other boys playing in his local leagues.

Rian's true athletic talent lay in distance and endurance. He could run, swim, bike for as far as any track went. And he could do it fast too.

But his father had wanted football, so that's what Rian had pursued all through intermediate school and college to no end.

Eventually his father had let go of that dream, though he still brought it up when Rian came to the weekly footie that the neighbourhood lads held in the park… and when he was drunk… and when Rian phoned up to the house…and when Rian went home to watch the matches… and when Rian went home at all…

At times Rian wished that his father was different. He thought, with affection, of the shrinking grey-haired man who had once appeared so tall to him.

Rian loved his father.

His movements grew more aggressive as he lifted the weights with increasing force.

'I love my Da'.'

He let a sharp breath out of his mouth with each lift now.

'I lov…'

It happened again. Rian's hazel eyes went wide as the weights dropped from his limp hands.

He was in another gym but this one was poorly lit and practically empty. There was a boxing ring in the middle of the space and few punching bags and training equipment scattered about the room.

The air was sticky and hot… tropical like the dream he'd had yesterday when he'd fallen asleep at the table in his flat before the wedding.

That kind of air that he liked.

The fabric of his beater was sticking under the damp humidity to his chest. Pulling his earbuds out of his ears, Rian craned his head around to check to see if anyone else was nearby to witness what was happening to him.

He was met with the sound of a rhythmic pounding that he recognized as boxing gloves against a punching bag. Walking further past the ring, he was met with the sight of a black woman hitting the hell out of a very beat up looking bag. Her dark curly hair was pulled back from her face, adding some height to her small stature.

Rian watched the powerful woman, astonished beyond words for the second time that day.

Her chest was heaving. Her dark skin on her arms and face was glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. She was wearing baggy t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that Rian found confounding in this heat.

She also looked angry. Her brown nearly black eyes were filled with a ragged intensity Rian decided he would not want to be in the path of.

"Wow…" He let slip from his mouth once again, but this time the scene in front of him didn't vanish.

He was there to see her spin on her heel to face him with surprise after he had spoken.

Her eyes immediately scrutinizing him, her stance understandably defensive. "Who are you?" She reminded him of a child trying to behave bravely, as she jutted her chin out defiantly at him. "What are you doing here?"

'She can see me…' Rian thought to himself. More and more convinced with each moment that this was a dream.

When he didn't reply, the hardness in her gaze was coloured with uncertainty. "You that new trainer Moses was talkin' about? He said he'd be a little slow."

In deep confusion, Rian shook his head no.

"Oh…" the black haired woman, frowned, standing her ground as he moved nearer. "Who are you then?"

Taken by the musical lit of her voice, Rian considered his options. He figured that introducing himself would probably his best bet in this strange daydream. "Rian. Rian Merrick. Who are you?"

She seemed to be taking her own time to measure him with her dark eyes. "Irie." She finally replied.

Rian watched her carefully as well, somehow he could tell that she was feeling the same odd pull that he had been experiencing in his chest since he'd seen her.

It was pushing him to move in closer to her.

"Irie." He repeated, sending her the warmest smile he could muster. "It's nice to meet you."

Given his history with putting women at ease with his smile, he was fairly confident that it would work again. On this occasion however the short woman in front of him did not seem impressed and simply crossed her arms over her torso.

"Why are you here?" She asked with a determined coolness in her voice.

Unable to keep himself from drawing nearer, he took as step forward as he shrugged, once more choosing to go with the truth. "Tah be completely honest... I haven't the foggiest, love."

She looked insulted for a moment and opened her mouth as if to speak but no words left her lips. Ultimately, she allowed herself a small nod, as though she too had somehow understood what Rian had meant.

"So… yous trainin' fer somethin'?" Rian asked awkwardly, in an attempt to break the odd silence that had fallen over them on top of the sticky heat in the air. He nodded towards the bag she'd been pummeling with so much force only minutes ago.

Irie took a moment before responding, a curious look on her face. "In a manner of speaking…" He didn't know how but he could sense a twinge of fear in her as he watched her dark, striking features.

Rian had started to talk, wanting to ask more but before he could finish his first word she was gone and he was left staring at his own bewildered expression in the well-lit mirror of his local gym.

He could still taste that damp heat in his mouth.

* * *

Hondo could always understand the type of fear that led people to behave in foolish ways.

It was that very reason that he could understand his wife so well.

At least why he'd thought he could.

She wasn't afraid anymore.

Or maybe she'd never really been afraid at all. He didn't know anymore.

It was all a confused muddled mess. Made even more confusing by the fact that he now had phantom child haunting him. He had gone to Saint Joseph's and prayed away the demons. He would not risk speaking to a priest just yet. That could make his life a bigger mess than it had already become.

Hondo yawned deeply, resting his back against the wall opposite the window had been looking up into.

It was night in the city and orange glow of the street lamps on this 'safe' street stood in contrast to the darkness of the smaller alleys shooting off of it.

Mrs. Ziza's husband had been in the building for about four hours. Hondo had seen Mr. Ziza enter with at least five girls and there was no sign of him coming out anytime soon.

'A smart man would go home.' Hondo advised himself as he massaged the tired lines on his forehead, his eyes fell shut for a moment to rest.

'No one would ever accuse you of being that.' He could hear his wife again over the sounds of the honking cars.

Allowing himself a small laugh, Hondo rubbed a heavy palm against his weary brown eyes.

It only took a moment for him to realize that there were no cars on this quiet street. Blinking his gaze wide open, Hondo watched as a heavyset Asian man looked through shiny dresses hanging on overcrowded racks in a cramped clothing store.

Squeezing his eyes closed, Hondo opened them to see the man again. The Asian… no. Somehow Hondo knew… the Thai man's smaller friend had joined him and they were laughing about something. Hondo spun on his heel suddenly to see where he was only to find the wall on the empty street that he had been standing on outside Mr. Ziza's place. He slowly rotated back around, wondering if he was truly going mad.

The Asian man was there again. But this time his dark gaze lifted to meet Hondo's.

His watchful eyes left Hondo to look over his shoulder, he gave Hondo a small nod to look where he was looking.

Hondo lifted his own eyes to see Mr. Ziza and his multiple dates stumbling out of the building he'd been so carefully spying.

His heart beat skipping, Hondo raised his phone to take photos, then moved quickly to his motorbike as the party made their way into a sleek black car in front of the building.

Hondo did not know why but he knew he had to say something to the spirit who had guided him back to his task.

And so, as he gunned his motorbike, he muttered. "Thank you."

* * *

Lila had been ignoring the strange sensations in her head.

She found it had been much easier to focus on her daily chores if she ignored the phantoms in her mind.

But despite this, as she crouched by the river to beat Zahra's wet shirt against a stone to remove excess water, Lila found herself humming that same song she had sung the night before to lull her niece to sleep.

Lila had to bite her lips to stop. Her nose rubbed against the face cover she was wearing, the hot air from her exertions was causing her skin to dampen and grow raw as it moved against the fabric. Her mind drifted to the days when her father could afford new soft silk and cotton. Her mind drifted to silken feeling under her fingertips from last night.

She attempted to keep her thoughts on track and tried to beat that feeling out of her fingers.

'Baba always says I'm too foolish for my own good.'

She knew it hadn't been real. A moment of weakness in her life.

'Like so many others.'

The other women from the village around her were already finished with their dirty clothes, Lila realized with some shame. Baba had been telling her to stay on time with the group.

He did not want her to become caught in some sort of violence or gossip.

He was frightened for her and Lila could understand why.

Her left leg pulled painfully as she neared the water's edge to wash the last item in her basket.

Rubbing the fabric together to remove food stains, Lila listened to the sound of the rushing water of their river.

A gentle smile on her lips. She wished that she could just jump in one day to enjoy the coolness.

All at the same time a fear struck her of her actually being carried away by the fast flowing water even if she had known how to swim.

Shaking her head, Lila glared at spot that refused to move from her father's pants.

"Baba…." Lila tsked quietly to her absent father, though a grin played across her mouth.

The light of the sun had shift for a moment. Lila raised her eyes to see a dark figure across the water on a sandy shore.

Squinting Lila knew that this was not possible as the river was too wide to see the other side so close and not only that but grass was the only thing lining the river for miles in this area.

Through the haze of the sun's heat she was not able to make out much of the figure.

Other than that it appeared to be that of a woman with yellow hair caught freely in the wind. Again Lila knew that this could not be possible as the figure was wearing what seemed like a skin tight suit, covering from her ankles to her wrists to her neck.

'It's not real.'

She watched as the figure picked a very long, wide piece of wood and ran towards the water.

'It's not real.'

"Lila!" Her neighbour, Mona, called from behind her, jerking Lila out of her thoughts. "Let's go. It's getting dark."

* * *

Ilya had been attempting to control his reactions since that night in his apartment. He had woken up with that damned recorder in his hand. He had thrown it away from himself with such force he was sure that he had broken it. The panic that had risen in him at the thought of it being shattered was something that he never wished to feel again. He'd been grateful that little machine had somehow landed on his bed instead of the floor and had been saved from destruction.

Ilya grunted as he parried away from Vlad. He had arrived at his father's home late the night before, when everyone had finally fallen asleep, and in an attempt to avoid the family stresses that awaited him on top of the unnamed frustrations had recently been plaguing him, Ilya had slipped out of the manor well before anyone had woken up.

He had already been for a run, a swim, a soak, and now was pursuing his childhood pastime of fencing.

It was with mixed success. Normally he would move without hesitation, smooth with precision that had become second nature to him. However, today it seemed that his jacket was too tight, his gloves were chafing, his breathing was shallow.

'Come, Ilya…' he urged himself to snap out of whatever fog he had stumbled into.

He attempted a lunge, though as soon as he had he had immediately realized his mistake. 'Stupid… rash move…' he scolded himself.

Gritting out another breath he barely noticed what had to have been salvia that had leapt out past his teeth. 'Had to be…' he reasoned, despite the fact that he felt a chill about him and that each of his exhales was coming out as more of what was obviously mist.

Ilya parried against Vlad's lunge futilely trying to maintain some semblance of focus. But it was for naught because he was distracted out of the corner of his dark eye, where he could see a woman with long black hair struggling to fix an antenna to the roof of her snow covered trailer. How he knew it was her trailer he couldn't say.

"Wha-" he had barely spoken when her dark eyes shot up to meet his. Her mouth hanging open in matched surprise.

Before Ilya could do much else he felt the jab of Vlad's sword against his torso. In what felt like slow motion Ilya turned his confused face downward to see that he had indeed been beaten.

"Point." The director announced, he went on speaking but Ilya was no longer doing his best to pay attention to matters at hand.

The world around him was a blur, his mouth was dry as he moved dumbly to the side of the room where the woman had been. Removing his mask, Ilya held out his arm to test that the wall on this side of the room was solid.

Feeling the very much intact wall against his gloved hand, Ilya swallowed thickly. He could recognize the strange tingling he'd felt when he'd seen the woman. It was similar to the one he'd felt that night before, when he had woken up with the tape recorder in his hand.

But this had been different. He had taken no drugs, he had slept the night before, he had eaten. There was no way to make sense of it.

'Am I going crazy?'

It had been a very long time since he had felt this way. He was scared. His mother's face flashed into his mind.

"What the fuck is happening to me?"

* * *

 **Hope that wasn't too long.**

 **Thanks for checking this story out! Fingers crossed the next post is soon!**


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